


Shaking The Status Quo

by LadyStormcrow



Category: SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron
Genre: Gen, Mystery, Original Character(s), Political Intrigue, Violence Against OCs, Who May Or May Not Be Based On Real-World Political Figures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 05:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20252737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyStormcrow/pseuds/LadyStormcrow
Summary: For years, Callie Briggs has done the real work of keeping City Hall running. Now, when Mayor Manx is suddenly taken out of action on the eve of an election, she finds herself thrust into the job she's long wanted - at the worst possible time. Meanwhile, a kidnapper moves through the city's poorest neighborhoods, preying on the homeless and vulnerable. Something is rotten in the city of Megakat, and it's up to the SWAT Kats to face a new and insidious villain who could bring their world crashing down.





	Shaking The Status Quo

**Author's Note:**

> This takes the events of Season 2's three unfinished episodes ("Succubus!", "Turmoil 2: The Revenge", and "The Doctors of Doom") as canon. All three now have scripts and/or outlines available online, so if you're wondering why Cybertron is back, or when Chance was talking about classical music, give them a read! :D

_/ There must be some kind of way outta here, said the joker to the thief … /_

Lou hummed along with the WalkKat as he made himself comfortable in the brick alcove of the doorway. The alley outside was dark, and stank of oil and garbage, but at least it offered shelter from the windy night.

_/ There’s too much confusion, I can’t get no relief … /_

The thunder of the electric guitar chords thrummed through his bones, and Lou sighed in contentment. Some had sneered at him for holding onto the WalkKat when he couldn’t even afford his next meal, but he needed it. Music was the last thing he had that could keep the voices away.

Back when the clinic was still open, he’d had the others in the support group to talk to, and his doctor and counselor to help him try different medications. But then, just when he thought he’d finally found the right combination, the city had slashed funding for mental health services. All the clinics he knew of had closed their doors. With no way to get his medication, the whispers and shadows in his brain had begun to creep back. Desperate, he’d tried to drown them out with drinking, and then with ‘nip. After one too many mornings had seen him too sick and stoned to get out of bed, he’d lost his job. His landlord had tried to be patient, but when it became clear that Lou was never going to be able to make back rent, he’d turned him out as well.

_/ But you and I, we’ve been through that, and this is not our fate … / _

Lou rested his chin on his knees. Those early days on the street had been the worst time of his life. Between the agony of withdrawal and the phantoms in his brain, he’d wanted to die time after time.

And yet … somehow, he’d kept going. Whether it was by will or luck, he was still here. And where did his life have to go now, except up? He was only twenty-four. There was still hope, even if it was just the hope of reaching tomorrow.

_/ So let us stop talking falsely now, the hour’s getting late … / _

Lou froze.

Through the music, a cold, awful tingling sensation crept over his mind. The fur on the back of his neck stood up, and he recognized what the feeling meant: _someone’s watching me. _

Lou scanned the alley, but could see nothing. He turned up the WalkKat’s volume, trying to tell himself that it was just the delusions talking …

An engine approached down the empty street. Lou watched as a gray cargo van pulled up at the mouth of the alley, cutting off his exit.

He huddled deeper into the brick alcove, his heart pounding in rising fear. He watched as three kats in plain black uniforms climbed out of the van, their faces hidden under dark ski masks. For a moment, he hoped they might turn and walk down the street –

A voice spoke from inside the van. “There. In the doorway.”

Lou leapt to his feet. He had no idea what these masked goons might want with him, but he had no intention of waiting to find out.

He started to bolt for the far end of the alley, hoping to climb the fence, when some invisible force threw him to the ground. Before he could even scream, the masked kats were on him – hauling his arms behind his back, yanking zip cords around his wrists and ankles. One of them jerked a heavy black bag over his head, muffling his screams as he finally caught his breath.

As they tossed him into the van, blind and helpless, Lou heard the sound of his fallen WalkKat shattering on the pavement.

* * *

“And if reelected, I, Mayor Manx, promise to dedicate myself –”

Deputy Mayor Callie Briggs frowned, and scratched out what she’d just written. She’d already used that line in a speech from Manx’s last campaign, and she couldn’t afford to make him look any lazier than he already was.

That last election had been a breeze, looking back. Manx’s opponents had been a soft-spoken circuit judge who tripped on the stairs and dropped his notes in the first debate, and a retired city councilkat who (if his sleepy voice and posture were anything to go by) had only decided to run out of boredom. Between his lackluster opponents, and the glowing publicity he’d gotten from personally shooting down the ghost of the Red Lynx, Manx had won in a landslide.

This time, though, it wasn’t going to be nearly as easy. Callie only had to look out her window to know that.

On the other side of downtown, in a clear view from City Hall, a half-finished skyscraper stood gleaming against the afternoon sky. It filled the void in the skyline that had been left last year by the final destruction of Megakat Tower – a destruction that, Callie knew, the mayor had never completely recovered from. Turmoil’s hijacked laser satellite hadn’t even left a skeleton of the building that could be repaired. The only options had been to start rebuilding from the ground up (which, with Megakat Tower’s track record, the city council was not willing to finance), or to sell off the property and try to recoup some losses.

That was when Rex Tranthem had made his move.

No one had been much surprised when Tranthem had pounced on the deal. The real estate mogul had made a long and very profitable career out of buying damaged properties cheaply, fixing them up even more cheaply, and rebranding them with his name. With all the chaos Megakat City routinely suffered, he’d had no shortage of opportunity. If this had been just another straightforward business deal, it might not have been so hard on Manx.

But, in the last few years, Tranthem had been growing more and more vocal about his contempt for Megakat City’s government. Callie had found the whole thing perplexing; Manx had always tried to be a friend to the city’s wealthiest citizens, and she could see no reason why Tranthem would want to pick a fight with him, unless it was to satisfy some stupid male ego trip.

And Tranthem certainly had ego to spare. He’d thrown enough monetary weight around at MBC to get a turn hosting the newest season of _Top of the Ladder_, the network’s business-themed game show, and he’d wasted no time turning it into his own personal interview platform, trash-talking Manx and his administration in between making desperate young kats compete for a job in his company.

That, by itself, Callie would have been willing to forgive. Citizens had a right to criticize their government, and she knew better than anyone that there were plenty of things about the current mayor worth criticizing. If Tranthem had ever given some sign that he honestly cared about making the city a better place … but all of his ventures, from the overpriced, gentrified apartment buildings to the gaudy new casino on Anakata Island, were blatant grabs at wealth and fame for himself.

Callie frowned as she gazed out her office window. In the afternoon sun, the half-finished Tranthem Tower was starting to resemble what she knew it was meant to be: a giant, gold-plated middle finger to the Manx administration.

And now the final gauntlet had been thrown, and Tranthem himself was running for mayor. The first debate was scheduled for tonight, and she still hadn’t had a chance to finish Manx’s opening speech.

It hadn’t always been like this, she knew. When Callie had been growing up, and first started taking an interest in politics, Megakat City had had four deputy mayors, each with their own fleet of staff to share the workload. But they had all left, one by one, either retiring, quitting when their salaries were cut too much, or (in the case of Deputy Mayor Engram-Steel) being killed when Myaustranian gangsters shot down her helicopter.

They had left, and no one had stepped up to replace them. By the time Callie had graduated from law school and started working full time at City Hall, Deputy Mayor Myers had been the only one left. When he had decided to retire after a fateful terrorist attack on City Hall, he had personally recommended her to Manx as a replacement.

The memory made Callie smile, and she turned back to her desk. As terrifying as that attack had been – her first real taste of the dangers Megakat City faced in this new age – it had also been the first time she met the SWAT Kats, and she wouldn’t have traded that for anything. Not only had they saved hers and her coworkers’ lives, they had trusted her, and her alone, with a way to reach them directly.

The young politician and the vigilante pilots had recognized kindred spirits in each other. Their methods might be different, but they’d shared the same passion to change their city for the better. To find a new way of doing things, and break the old rules if it meant doing what was right –

“Ms. Briggs?”

Callie jerked in her chair, startled. “Sandra, I’ve told you before, don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry!” Sandra Shaw, a petite young she-kat with braided fawn-brown hair, gave the deputy mayor an apologetic smile. “I just wanted to see if you’d like some more coffee before the debate tonight.” She held up two steaming styrofoam cups. “Just the way you like it, with mint creamer.”

The blonde she-kat relaxed. Sandra had been an intern at City Hall for almost four months, and in that time, she had quickly latched on to Callie as her idol. It reminded Callie very much of her own college internship under Deputy Mayor Myers, and she had tried to be patient with Miss Shaw and teach her everything she could. If the younger she-kat’s enthusiasm and eagerness to please sometimes got in the way of her actually being productive, Callie could forgive that, sure that she’d mature with time.

“I really shouldn’t have caffeine this late in the day-” _Right, that doesn’t make me sound old at all,_ “-but, why not?” She took the offered cup gladly. “I need all the extra buzz I can get.”

Sandra took a seat at her own makeshift desk, near the door. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help with that speech? You’ve been –”

“It’s fine, Sandra. You and the other interns already do far too much work around here.” _What I wouldn’t give for a real press secretary._ “Besides, I like writing speeches.”

_Or I would, if I thought the mayor believed a word of what he was repeating. _

“So do I,” Sandra insisted. “I got an A-plus on my last presentation.”

“And I’m sure you deserved it. But, there’s still a difference between writing for your professor and writing for that whole city. You get a whole lot worse than academic suspension if it doesn’t go over well,” Callie half-joked.

“I know, I know. But I still think I could be good at it.” The younger she-kat brightened. “Maybe someday when you’re mayor, I can be your deputy mayor, and write for you.”

Callie gave a slightly impatient chuckle. “That ‘someday’ is still a long way in the future. Right now, all I want is to make sure Tranthem doesn’t get elected and throw us all out.” 

* * *

The grand auditorium of Megakat University hummed with conversation as the attendees filed in. Political debates weren’t usually such a cause for excitement, but this election was something quite unusual. An outspoken celebrity who, for all his fame and fortune, had never held any kind of office, against a seasoned pol who had been mayor for long as most of the city could remember.

It was, Callie thought, really no different than an episode of _Top of the Ladder_. An advertising stunt, a popularity contest. The candidates were here to say whatever they thought would win them the most votes, and whether they’d actually make good on their promises once elected had nothing to do with it. Most of the audience probably knew it, too –

Callie shook her head, mentally scolding herself. _When did you become so damned cynical, Calico? You wanted to get into politics to make Megakat City a better place, and you knew that it might take the rest of your life to make that happen. So what if you have to do a little pandering sometimes? You can’t help the people if you’re not in office, and if Manx goes, you’ll be gone too. For now, you need him. _

She kept telling herself that as the mayor gave her a none-too-gentle elbow in the ribs. “Callie, don’t look so stern. Remember, the eyes of history are upon us tonight!” Flashbulbs went off as they passed a row of reporters, and Manx, on perfect cue, turned a beaming grin in their direction.

“You’re right, sir,” she admitted. She raised her shoulders, straightened her walk, and fixed an expression on her face that she hoped would look both charming and dignified. “Eleven terms was already a record, but twelve is –” she wanted to say ‘unheard of’, but thought better of it, “unprecedented.”

“Well, the people of this city know who has their interests at heart,” Manx chuckled, thumping his chest lightly for emphasis. “And besides, everyone knows twelve is a lucky number!”

The old tom kept chattering on as they made their way to the stage of the vast auditorium. The front row of seats had been reserved for the candidate’s families, and Callie couldn’t help noticing, with a twinge of sympathy, how empty Manx’s section was. After his wife’s death eight years ago, he had never remarried (or even dated, as far as Callie knew), and their only child had moved back to the Manx family’s homeland in the Fionnaidh Islands.

Callie couldn’t say she blamed her much for that. She and the mayor’s daughter had been classmates in college, and Elizabeth Manx had made no secret that she and her father weren’t close. With her mother gone, there had been no reason for her to stay in Megakat City and have to face daily criticism about the job her father was doing.

It was understandable, but the empty seats certainly didn’t help Manx’s image now. Not when the seats on Tranthem’s side were filled with his three adult children, his gorgeous young second wife, and –

Callie paused. The she-kat sitting at the far end of the row was a stranger to her.

She was short and curvy, garbed in a dark red business dress that brought out the cream-gold color of her fur. Her ears were black-tipped, and her dark, curly hair was fixed in an elaborate upsweep that reminded Callie of the paintings on ancient Ailuropolitan vases. She spoke to no one, and watched the auditorium with what appeared to be a look of mild impatience.

Callie’s first thought was that she might be Tranthem’s first wife, here to support her children. But she was too young for that – no more than forty, from what the deputy mayor could tell – and her short frame and rounded features looked out of place with the tall, angular Tranthem clan. That made it unlikely she was some other relative, and Callie doubted Tranthem would have risked the scandal of bringing a mistress to the debate (especially one who, while attractive enough, couldn’t hold a candle to the glowing ex-model he was currently married to).

Who was she, then, to be important enough to sit with Tranthem’s family?

“Good evening, Megakat City.” The deep, smooth voice of James Theron, tonight’s appointed moderator, interrupted her thoughts. Callie turned her attention back to the stage as Theron introduced himself and the chosen topics for the evening – the mysterious she-kat’s identity would have to wait.

“The questions tonight will be mine, and have not been shared with the candidates or their campaigns,” Theron went on. “The audience has agreed to remain silent, the better to focus on what the candidates are saying. But we’ll make an exception at this time, as we welcome incumbent mayor George Manx, and new challenger Rex Tranthem!”

The two candidates made a striking contrast as they crossed the stage and shook hands: Manx, short and portly in one of his trademark waistcoats, and Tranthem, tall and broad-shouldered in a blue blazer and shiny golden tie. The younger tom’s stylists had clearly put extra effort into fluffing and highlighting his ginger-gold hair, and Callie wished – not for the first time – that Manx would listen to friendly advice and get rid of that toupee that had long since stopped fooling anyone.

Manx took a deep breath, ready to launch into the speech Callie had prepared. As the incumbent, it had long been traditional for him to open the debate with a few words of praise for the city and respect for his opponent.

But before he could get a single word out, Theron spoke again.

"In honor of this historic election, we’re going to do things a little differently.” Moving slowly and deliberately, as if in a dream, the moderator pulled a Megakat dollar coin – large and shiny gold – from his pocket. He flipped it high, and caught it with a slow sweep of his hand. With barely a glance, he declared, “Mr. Tranthem wins the toss, so he will speak first.”

_What the hell was that?!_ Callie thought. She and Manx, not to mention many of the audience, openly gaped at Theron for this startling change of protocol. From what she could see, even Tranthem’s family was surprised.

Only the nameless she-kat in the red suit seemed calm.

“Thank you, Mr. Theron,” Tranthem declared, with a smile that showed off his glaringly white teeth. “I’ll get right to the point: as mayor, I intend to make the economy our top, number-one priority. Megakat City’s strength has always been in our businesses, and the progress big business brings.” He gripped the podium, leaning forward aggressively, as if trying to intimidate his audience. “I’m gonna rebuild the city’s treasury, and cut down your taxes so your money stays where it belongs…”

_This is drivel,_ Callie thought as Tranthem rambled on. Manx might be a greedy coward at heart, but at least he knew how to stay on topic and charm people in the short term. Tranthem spoke like someone who’d never even _tried_ to win over the public before.

And yet …

… Why did she find him so compelling to listen to, now? It was as if a voice was whispering in the back of her mind, lulling her to stop thinking and just accept every word the kingly golden kat on the stage was saying …

Callie shuddered, and the whispering voice slunk away.

To Manx’s credit, he kept his cool throughout Tranthem’s aggressive, rambling monologue. The speech Callie had prepared for him might be useless now, but he launched smoothly into his own take on Megakat City’s economy.

The two candidates continued on into the hour. Manx kept up a genial tone as long as he could, talking up his continued hope to diversify business and make profitable alliances with foreign investors. But, in the face of Tranthem’s belligerent sniping about the disasters that had come from the mayor’s projects, the older tom was starting to weaken.

Manx’s already round shoulders slumped as he leaned against the podium. Callie cringed inside, knowing that image of the mayor looking tired and old would circulate through the news tomorrow.

“– Which is why Megakat can’t afford to continue the way it is!” Tranthem all but yelled, pounding his fist on the podium. “We’ve already seen too much of our fortunes go down the drain with the Manx way of doing things! It’s time to stop bowing and scraping to outsiders, time to build a strong economy that’s just for our citizens! Time to _shake the status quo!_”

He’d obviously been counting on that soundbite. Despite the moderator’s claim that the audience would stay quiet, Callie was dismayed to hear applause breaking out.

“Well stated, Mr. Tranthem,” Theron said. He made no move to quiet the audience, and was speaking once again in that dreamlike state he’d had during the surprise coin toss. “Mr. Manx, care to counter?”

All eyes fixed on the mayor. No one noticed as the she-kat in the red suit raised one hand and slowly closed her fist, as if grasping something only she could see.

“Ahem, yes.” Manx pulled himself up, taking a deep breath. “I would like to say –”

Suddenly, his words stopped in a violent fit of coughing. He grabbed the podium, trying to steady himself. The color drained from his face, and his eyes grew wide in pain and terror. Gasping, he clutched at his chest …

Before the eyes of all Megakat City, Mayor Manx fell to his knees.

_“Mayor!”_ Callie bolted for the stage, rushing to his side. “Sir, what’s wrong?!”

The old tom’s glasses fell off his nose as he gasped and clawed at his chest. “C-c-call an ambulance …”

With those final words, he collapsed on the stage. 

* * *

Emergency rooms are always at their busiest in the evening, as staff change shifts and the first of the nighttime weirdoes flow in. Megakat Memorial Hospital was no exception, and when news came in that the mayor himself was on his way, unconscious after an apparent heart attack, the ward buzzed to life like a threatened hive.

White-clad drones swarmed on the arriving ambulance, ready to fight to save their leader. By the time Callie had parked her car and made her way inside, they’d already whisked Manx away to intensive care.

“I’m sorry, miss, but we have rules for a reason,” the elderly receptionist insisted, folding her hands over the crossword she’d just put down. “Only immediate family are allowed in the ICU, and only during visiting hours. You’ll be doing the mayor no service getting in the way of his care.”

For a moment, Callie imagined grabbing the beaded eyeglass chain around the receptionist’s neck and hauling her up by the throat. Her nerves were already shot with anger and confusion from the terrible debate, and it would feel so good to take it out on something. But she knew the receptionist was just trying to do her job – and besides, it would hardly help City Hall’s image for Deputy Mayor Briggs to start assaulting hospital staff.

“Ma’am, for all intents and purposes, I _am_ the mayor right now. I have a duty to our city to see that Mr. Manx is getting the best of care, and to be the first to know if …”

_If he doesn’t make it. _

It was terrifying to even let that thought in.

“Believe me, I understand, Miss Briggs.” The receptionist’s look of sympathy seemed real enough, but that repeated ‘miss’ made Callie bristle. “Your devotion to your job is admirable. But again, you’re not family.”

“Right now, I’m all he has.” Still forcing herself to stay calm, Callie leaned in, meeting the old she-kat’s eyes. “It could take a day or more before any of his relatives can get to Megakat City. If,” _may the Holy Kats forbid,_ “he doesn’t make it through the night, do you want him to have died alone?”

The receptionist hesitated, and for a moment, Callie thought she was still going to resist. But at last the old she-kat spoke, “All right. You can stay in the waiting room until a relative shows up.” Then, as if thinking she’d been too easy on Callie, she added, “And with all due respect, missy, I hope you appreciate this.”

Callie only gave her a short word of thanks. She didn’t trust herself not to say something that might get her chewed out on the news tomorrow.

This wasn’t the first time someone had thought they could talk down to her just because she was young. She’d put up with it throughout college, law school, and her internships, and while it had always annoyed her, she’d been sure it would end when she proved herself in the field.

She made her way to the ICU waiting room, and took a seat in one of the mucus-colored armchairs. That was one thing that could be said for Manx – he’d never doubted her abilities because of her youth.

Manx …

_What am I going to do?_

Callie had been running on adrenaline ever since she first saw the mayor choking onstage. Now, with nothing to do except wait for news from the doctors, she felt herself crashing down.

The mayor had had a heart attack, might be dying – might even already be dead. That would leave her as acting mayor, something she’d always known might happen in a city as dangerous as Megakat. She had to take charge of the situation, even if, right now, that only meant keeping a vigil for Manx until she could give the citizens some answers.

For now, she would do her job … but the election was coming up in less than six weeks.

_They have to save him. Megakat City can’t have someone like Tranthem as mayor. _

_He **has** to live, for all our sakes. _

* * *

Callie didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she woke to the feeling of a hand on her shoulder.

“Ms. Briggs?” One of the critical care nurses, a stocky young tom, smiled down at her. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but another visitor just showed up for the mayor.”

The deputy mayor gave a small groan. She’d fallen asleep with her head resting on one arm, and now her neck ached, her arm was numb, and the sleeve of her trademark pink suit was sticky with drool. She straightened up in the pleather armchair, and found herself looking into the gaze of a yellow-furred, dark-haired she-kat about the same age as Callie herself.

Callie coughed in surprise. _“Betsy?” _

“If you don’t mind,” Elizabeth Manx replied, “I go by ‘Lizzie’ now.”

The mayor’s daughter looked about as rough and exhausted as Callie felt. She’d clearly thrown on the first clothes she could find: an oversized sheepskin coat and a shapeless, threadbare denim dress. The dress was stretched tight over her belly, and Callie realized that, if Manx lived, he would be seeing a second grandchild in a few months.

“I … I wasn’t expecting you so fast.” There were no windows in the ICU waiting room, but a glance at her watch told Callie it was just past seven in the morning. “How did you get here?”

“I called Cousin Harris.” The pregnant she-kat settled awkwardly into a chair next to her. “As soon as I found out. Having a family of aviators does come in handy sometimes.”

“Is Maggie with you?” Callie glanced around, but saw no sign of Elizabeth’s wife.

Elizabeth shook her head. “She’s bringing the kids tomorrow. But I couldn’t wait that long.” She turned in her seat, looking at the deputy mayor with wide-eyed anxiousness. “Callie, _what happened?_ The hospital told me he’d been brought in with heart trouble.”

Callie told her about the debate, and the stress that running against Rex Tranthem had been putting on Manx. “But I never expected this, Be- … Lizzie. I was with him all evening until the debate started, and he seemed fine! If I’d had any idea …”

_I would have what? Taken his place in the debate? _

_Why not? I do everything else for him. _

“He shouldn’t have been running again in the first place.” It was a blunt statement of fact, and Elizabeth’s jaw was set as she said it. “I may not be a Megakat citizen anymore, but I still follow what’s been going on here. He couldn’t handle it eight years ago, and he hasn’t been getting any better.”

Callie’s first instinct, a force of habit honed from dealing with the media, was to stick up for the city’s leader. “He’s doing the best he can –”

It was a lie, and both of them knew it.

“I know my father, Callie. And I really do love him. I think the distance makes it easier now. But he’s always been too selfish to make a good leader. He should have retired years ago. If Mom was still alive, she probably would have made him.” Elizabeth sighed. “Do you realize, he’s been mayor for more than half his life? He probably decided to keep running because it’s all he knows how to do.”

The other she-kat’s tired, angry tone told Callie this wasn’t the time to argue. Not when she knew in her heart that Elizabeth was right.

“Ladies?”

The day-shift doctor approached them. Callie immediately got to her feet, ignoring the ache in her back and tail that came from sleeping in a chair. “Yes, what is it? Do you have an update on the mayor’s condition?”

“I do. I’m pleased to report that he’s still with us, and we’re done running tests for now.” He gave a gentle smile. “You can come see him, if you like.”

Her mood a little brighter, Callie grabbed her purse. Elizabeth tried to push herself up from the narrow armchair, but her pregnant stomach defeated her. “Uh … could someone give me a hand?”

* * *

As fitting his status, Megakat Memorial had given the mayor the nicest room on the intensive care ward. It was large and airy, with a comfy sitting area that looked out on the sunrise. If it weren’t for the wall lined with beeping, pumping machines and monitors, it would have looked almost homey.

George Manx lay on the bed, sleeping under a thin blanket. They’d dressed him in a white hospital gown, and Callie realized she couldn’t remember ever seeing him in short sleeves before. Wires ran from under the gown to the row of monitors, and a nasal cannula tube looped over his muzzle.

“It took a while to get him breathing regularly again when they brought him in,” the doctor explained to Callie and Elizabeth as the three of them gazed through the observation window. “But he’s managed to stay conscious since then. If nothing changes in the next forty-eight hours, I’m optimistic about his chances.”

“He looks so … frail.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “Every time I see him on the international news, he looks older. But it’s worse seeing it in person, you know? You never think it’s going to be your own parent in the hospital. I already went through it when Mom died, but I thought I’d have more time with Dad …”

“Hey.” Callie laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You do have more time. You heard what the doctor said. He’s made it through the night, his chances are good.” She looked at the sleeping Manx again, and added, “Though he probably won’t be happy when he finds out the hospital lost his toupee.”

In spite of everything, Elizabeth laughed. “Maybe they threw the stupid thing in the incinerator.”

“I did grab these for him.” Callie dug Manx’s glasses out of her purse, and pressed them into Elizabeth’s hand. “Go talk to him, Lizzie. I’ve got things under control out here.”

* * *

As she took the elevator back down to the parking garage, Callie tried to shift her mental gears to the tasks that would have to come next. One, go home and get ready in record time. The whole day would be much easier to take on with a shower and a change of clothes (and it would make a much better impression when she inevitably had to face the press). Two, head straight to City Hall and gather the staff - her staff - for a briefing. She still didn’t know how they were going to handle an upcoming election with the mayor out of commission for the near future, but she’d think of something.

All those plans went out the window the moment she turned her key, and the car gave no response.

Callie, acting on raw sleep-deprived instinct, slammed her foot harder and turned the key again, and again. _Dammitdammitdammit, why **now?**_ The old green sedan hadn’t haven her any sign of trouble for months. Why now, of all the times when she could least afford the delay? She’d have to call a tow truck, and wait for it before she could call another ride, and all the while the city would be waiting for answers she didn’t have, and she’d make it even worse by showing up late, like something out of a nightmare from her internship days…

She turned the key again, so hard this time that she thought it might snap in half … and, against all odds, the engine purred to life.

Callie hesitated. The dashboard lights weren’t as bright as they should be, and the ‘check engine’ light had clicked on, but the car was unmistakably running. Callie breathed a silent prayer to the Holy Kats, but she had a feeling she owed her thanks to some much more down-to-earth saviors.

_And I can thank them in person. _

Even if the car was working for now, she couldn’t take the risk that it might give out on her again. With the sun rising ahead of her, Callie left downtown, and headed for the Megakat Salvage Yard.

* * *

Chance Furlong liked to shower first thing in the morning. It wasn’t always the most convenient habit; his careers as first an Enforcer, then a mechanic-slash-vigilante, tended to require rising early and getting dirty, and an additional shower before bed was a daily requirement. But he liked the feeling of starting the day clean and energized, and he indulged whenever he could.

So, when he turned on the ancient shower in the garage’s upstairs bathroom, and the showerhead produced nothing but a hollow grinding noise, he knew the day was not off to a good start.

_“Jake!” _

Grumbling, the big tabby threw on his shirt and coveralls. The sound of shifting furniture and tools on metal rose up the narrow staircase, and he followed it down to the room just off the main office that served as the garage’s kitchen and laundry room.

As he’d known he would, he found Jake Clawson, already dressed and (in Chance’s opinion) much too chipper for this hour of the morning. The smaller tom’s head and upper body were currently deep inside the dishwasher he’d spent the last few days fixing up: the latest of the many gadgets the two of them had salvaged from the yard for personal use.

Jake’s brown tail twitched with interest as he worked, but that in itself wasn’t cause for concern. What _did_ concern Chance was the gleaming metal form of Cybertron, partially bent over in the far corner, one of the robot’s extendable arms reaching into the gap behind the kitchen counters.

“Heh, sorry buddy.” Jake extracted himself from the dishwasher and gave his friend an apologetic smile. “Just hold on a couple minutes and I’ll have the water back on.”

“Forget about the water.” Chance’s tone turned serious. “What the heck are you thinkin’ bringing this guy,” he gestured to Cybertron, “up here?”

The robot in question responded with a friendly “Good morning!” beep and a wave of its free hand.

“You wanna try fitting _your_ arm back there?” Jake gave Cybertron a thumbs-up, and the robot retracted its limb with a soft whir. “Relax, Chance. I timed it early enough, no one’s gonna show up at this hour. Besides, it’s not fair for him to be stuck down in the hangar all the time. He needs something to do.”

That, Chance knew, was the root of all this. While Megakat City was never truly quiet, it had been several months since any of the city’s usual gallery of supervillains had made a move. With the Enforcers at the ready to handle more minor crimes, there hadn’t been much for the SWAT Kats to do except patrol, run weapons tests, and focus on their “real” jobs as mechanics. Both of them knew in their heads that this was a good thing - in a perfect world, there would be no need for the SWAT Kats _or_ the Enforcers - but for the two excitement-loving friends, it was … well, dull.

And a bored Jake, Chance had long since discovered, was a dangerous thing. When he’d hit a dry spell on ideas for new combat gear, he’d turned his attention to fixing up the more mundane machinery around the garage. It had started with his plan to soup up an old blender (“It’s the only blender in Megakat City that can puree a brick!” Jake had triumphantly declared when he was done), and then he’d moved on to the microwave and the dryer. Finally, he’d decided they needed a dishwasher, even though the two of them hardly ever sat down to eat in the first place.

But this was the first time Chance knew of that his friend had risked bringing the SWAT Kats’ robotic assistant into the public parts of the garage. Yes, it was still half an hour until they opened for business, but Jake’s boredom must be worse than he’d thought for him to have such a lapse in judgment.

“Then you should’ve done it last night,” Chance grumbled. “When we_ didn’t_ have to worry about people showin’ up and seeing him.”

“Don’t worry, I’m just about done. You’ll get your shower before you know it,” Jake added, teasing his friend. The smaller tom headed for the closet that housed the water shut-off valve, and deftly gave it a turn. “There we go.”

Before Chance could respond, a blast of water gushed from the still-open dishwasher and hit him dead-on. The tabby spluttered furiously as he instinctively tried to shield himself, too surprised for a moment to move out of the way.

“Oops!” A very embarrassed Jake hurriedly switched the water back off, and the geyser died down to a trickle. “Guess I still need to tighten those new pressure jets.”

Ever the helper, Cybertron had grabbed an armful of towels to try and mop up the mess. Chance took one, and began toweling his face off as he gave Jake a dirty look. “Why do you even want a dishwasher anyway? It’s not like we’re cookin’ for a whole litter of kittens here.”

“I know. I just thought it might be nice to make the place a little more homey. Y’know, a real kitchen, maybe some -”

But before Jake could share what other homey touches he wanted to add, they heard the unmistakable sound of a car pulling up outside.

Underneath the half-open garage door, Callie Briggs’ legs and skirt came into view, and she gave a polite knock. “I’m sorry to bother you guys so early, but I really need your help.”

Chance and Jake exchanged a worried look - a look that quickly turned to fear as Cybertron perked up at the sound of Callie’s voice and, in the spirit of being a welcoming host, headed for the door to greet her.

“Oh no you don’t!” Jake threw both arms around the stocky little robot and hauled it toward the stairs over Cybertron’s confused, protesting beeps. “Come on, we gotta get you out of sight!”

As Jake struggled to force the robot upstairs, Chance slung the towel over his shoulder and moved quickly to head Callie off. He ducked under the garage door, winced as he banged his head on the way, and tried to put on a casual, not-at-all-hiding-something expression. “What can we do for you, Ms. Briggs?”

The blonde she-kat looked at the soaking wet front of his coveralls. “Did I come at a bad time?”

“Nah, everything’s fine. Jake was just doing some work with the plumbing and it got outta hand.” He walked over to the green sedan, trying to steer Callie away from the garage as best he could short of picking her up and hauling her. “So what seems to be the trouble?”

“It was the strangest thing.” She told him about the engine’s sudden death and semi-resurrection. “I’m not sure what you two did to it to make it pull through, but you really saved my tail. Today of all days I couldn’t afford to wait for a tow.”

“Hey, that’s right! You’re acting mayor now.”

It was still hard to wrap his head around. He and Jake had watched the debate last night, making quips the whole time (they might feel a duty to stay informed about city politics, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have fun doing it). That joking mood, though, had died the moment they saw Manx collapse on-air. By the time they’d gone to bed, the news still hadn’t given an update on the mayor’s condition.

Chance wanted to believe that was a good sign.

He turned his tone serious again, glad for both the chance to get answers and to distract Callie from going into the garage. “How long does that look like it’s gonna be for? Is the mayor…?”

“He’s alive. Still in intensive care, but alive.” Callie sighed. “Beyond that, I’m still trying to figure out myself. And I need to get to City Hall as soon as possible.”

“Why don’t I give you a lift, then?” It came out more eagerly than he’d meant it to. “You can leave the keys, Jake’ll get started on it.”

For a moment, Callie hesitated. She was used to Chance trying to charm and flirt with her when she’d visited in the past. She didn’t usually mind it - he meant no harm, he _was_ cute, and it was kind of funny to take the wind out of his sails by giving Jake her attention instead - but it wasn’t something she was in the mood for right now.

But she didn’t read any of that attitude from the tabby tom now, only honest eagerness to help. And after the miserable night she’d just had, she could use a friend to talk to.

She smiled. “Sure, I’d like that.”

* * *

It wasn’t long before they were in the tow truck, deftly weaving through morning traffic heading into the city. Another time, Chance might have complained about having to go at civilian speed, but considering that it now let him spend more time with the lovely deputy-turned-acting mayor, complaining was the farthest thing from his mind.

“I know there are better models on the market these days,” she was saying, “but I love that old crate. It’s the first car I ever bought with my own money, without having to ask my parents for anything.”

“Hey, I can understand that. There’s no feeling quite like being able to go where you want and answer to no one. Don’t worry, we’ll have it running better than ever.”

“I really do appreciate you guys seeing me so early.” She glanced out the window as the skyscrapers of downtown rose around them. “I just hope I can get our government running that smoothly until the mayor gets back in action.”

“Why? You don’t need him.”

He’d meant to say it under his breath. He really had. But it came out just at the moment there was a lull in the traffic noises around them, and Callie heard it perfectly.

She stared at the tom beside her. She’d known Chance didn’t have much of a filter (she still remembered how he’d put his foot in his mouth over his feelings about classical music all those months ago), but it was still a surprise to hear him speak so bluntly about Manx.

“... I do appreciate your faith in me, Chance, but be realistic. It’s less than six weeks to the election. Even if Manx did decide to step down, people aren’t going to vote for a last-minute candidate. We’d just be handing victory to Tranthem on a silver platter.”

“People aren’t gonna be voting for Manx anyway after last night.” If he’d already put his feelings out in the open, Chance decided, he might as well keep going. “For cripes’ sake, Callie, the guy had a heart attack in the middle of his first debate! If that doesn’t tell them he can’t handle the job, nothing will. And you, you’re…”

_Amazing. Brilliant. Gorgeous. A better leader than this city deserves. _

He’d gotten less obvious about showing it over the years, but Chance’s feelings for Calico Briggs had never gone away. If anything, they had grown stronger, as mere attraction to her beauty had turned into deep admiration of her courage and strength of character. As he watched her doubting herself now, he longed to pull her into a hug and tell her just how many times he’d seen her prove her worth…

… Except _he_ hadn’t seen them. T-Bone had. Chance Furlong, the auto mechanic and disgraced ex-Enforcer, wasn’t supposed to know any more about the inner workings of City Hall than the next civilian off the street.

And Chance Furlong had to choose his next words carefully.

“... You’re the best hope Megakat City’s got. From what you’ve told me and Jake, you do most of the real work already. You deserve to get credit for that!”

Callie still looked tired and disheveled, but a bright, hopeful smile was starting to rise. “Do you really think I could beat Tranthem?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve seen how the guy operates. He’s a scuzzball, anyone who watched the debate can tell that. Now you, you’re a ray of hope. Young, smart, well-spoken, easy on the eyes,” Chance gave her a little grin as he let some of his familiar flirty manner come back. “Tranthem doesn’t stand a chance.”

They pulled up in front of City Hall as he finished speaking.

“You’ve given me a lot to think over.” Callie’s warm, bright smile made his heart turn over. “Thank you, Chance. For everything.” She reached for her purse, then frowned as she got another look at her drooled-on sleeve. “I still wish I’d had time to change suits.”

“Would this help?” He offered her the damp towel that still hung over his shoulder. “It’s clean, I promise.”

Callie laughed softly, and began sponging her sleeve. “You’re just prepared for anything, aren’t you?”

* * *

As Callie had known there would be, a pack of reporters were already waiting at the doors of City Hall. When they realized it was her getting out of the faded tow truck, the pack moved into hunting formation, and she barely had a moment to smooth her hair into place before the cameras were on her.

To Callie’s somewhat-relief, Ann Gora was leading the pack. She and the KatsEye News reporter had known each other for years, and Callie considered her a friend; as much as two people in their respective roles _could_ be friends, at least. Ann was committed to getting stories, but she also knew when to respect that someone didn’t want to say too much, which Callie very much did not right now.

“This is Ann Gora, KatsEye News, live from the steps of City Hall,” the reporter addressed her ever-faithful camerakat, before turning quickly back to Callie, “where Deputy Mayor Callie Briggs has just arrived. Ms. Briggs, has there been any update on the mayor’s condition?”

“I’m happy to report that, as of this morning, Mayor Manx’s condition is stable,” Callie replied confidently. “All my best wishes are with him and his family while he recovers. Until then, I will be standing in as acting mayor for Megakat City.”

“What does this mean for the election?!” another reporter demanded, shoving his microphone past Ann Gora, who shot him an irritated look.

“Will there be another debate?!”

“Will he concede the election?!”

“Is Manx retiring?!”

Callie straightened her stance. “These are all valid questions, and they will all be answered in an official statement later today. But in the meantime, gentlemen, the city needs me.”

The reporters parted before her as she strode into City Hall, perfectly on time for work. All the way up the elevator, she rode the warm, fuzzy confidence boost her talk with Chance had given her. If Manx officially stepped down (and he probably wouldn’t need much convincing now), and she joined the election in her own right, maybe she really _could_ win. It would take some quick image-polishing, and a careful choice of campaign staff, but it could be done.

She could finally have her chance to change Megakat City for the better.

Callie stepped out as the elevator doors opened ... and nearly walked smack into the short, dark-haired she-kat she’d glimpsed at the debate last night.

The other she-kat seemed just as shocked to see her. Callie had more than half a head on her in height, and as she gaped upward, Callie noticed that her eyes were different colors: her left pale yellow, her right dark orange.

“... Good morning, Ms. Briggs.” The other she-kat recovered her composure first. Her voice was low and smoky, with no accent Callie could detect. “I’m impressed to see you on the job at such an early hour.”

“Where else would I be?” Callie tried to keep her tone civil. Aside from being on Tranthem’s side, the stranger had not wronged her in any way.

_Yet,_ Callie’s thoughts whispered. _How did she get in here so early? And why? _

“Your devotion speaks very highly of you.” The other she-kat gave a brief, sharp smile, like light glinting off a knife. “I’m sure Manx appreciates it.”

“I don’t think I caught your name, Ms. -?”

“Cutter.” The dark-haired she-kat gave a sweep of her black wraparound skirt that was not quite a curtsy. “Moira Cutter.”

_Cutter._ The name was faintly familiar, but Callie still couldn’t place it. “And you work for Tranthem.”

“Indeed. I’m his appointed image-manager, and I really must be on my way.” She chuckled. “These toms would be lost without us to do their work, wouldn’t they?”

Before Callie could respond, Moira Cutter stepped past her into the waiting elevator.

It was only after the doors closed in front of her that Callie realized they had stayed open much longer than they should have.

She found Sandra Shaw already in the office, having shown up early to try and impress her as usual. Normally Callie found it commendable (though she’d also explained to the intern more than once that taking time for yourself was also important, especially when you weren’t even getting paid for your work), but today Sandra was sitting at her desk, staring blankly into space.

“Sandra? Sandy?”

Callie gave her shoulder a shake, and the girl finally responded. “Ms. Briggs! I didn’t even hear you come in. Do you want some coffee?”

Callie frowned. “Maybe later. Sandra, that she-kat who was in here just now. Did you see her?”

Sandra blinked. “Ms. Cutter? I … I think so. Security let her in, so I thought it was okay?”

“And what did she want?” Callie’s frown deepened.

“She …” Sandra gritted her teeth, clearly struggling to remember. “She just wanted to ask some questions. About the mayor. And you. And the campaign.” A blank, dreamlike expression passed over her face. “She’s a citizen like everyone else, she has a right to know what’s going on in her government.”

Watching the younger she-kat’s changing expressions, Callie was strongly reminded of what she’d seen from Theron at the debate. She forced herself not to shudder.

“In the future, Sandra, don’t let any of Tranthem’s staff in early again. No matter what they say. They can make an appointment during business hours just like everyone else. “

* * *

** _To Be Continued..._ **


End file.
